Dreams of Spring
by Le Penguin
Summary: "Sorey, none of his perviness rubbed off on you, did it?" After finishing the Earth Trial at the Shrine of Morgause, Mikleo and Sorey sneak away from camp at night to explore the ruins on their own. Mikleo frets over the topic of human mortality, becomes concerned that Pawan is a bad influence on Sorey, and then Sorey has him against a wall. (Sorey/Mikleo)


Mikleo breathed deep, letting the night fill his lungs. Green grass and cool air, with the lingering scent of the ocean carried on the breeze – it felt utterly rejuvenating. They'd been travelling for months, now; it should be odd, he supposed, to still feel like this about a few lungfuls of air. Yes, they'd been on the road for a while, but most of the time he was riding around inside of Sorey; unable to experience things with his own senses. To touch things with his own hands, to see things with his own eyes…

…Not to say that it was uncomfortable or unpleasant being inside Sorey. It wasn't at all; it was warm, and comforting, and after a long day he loved nothing more than to just let go and sink deep into him, letting Sorey wrap around him from everywhere…

Mikleo's brain put on the brakes there. He frowned and scrubbed at his reddening cheeks, and tried to redirect his thoughts back to the lovely night outside, instead of focusing on how Sorey felt on the inside…

Ugh. It was probably thanks to that Shepherd-turned-seraph administering the Earth Trial, earlier that morning. Pawan was lewd, inappropriate, and wouldn't leave Lailah and Rose alone. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't especially good at the whole administration gig to begin with. (Though he at least was properly confused and disturbed when Edna did…whatever she was trying to accomplish with that creepy act.) Mikleo wasn't interested in serving any Shepherd aside from Sorey, but if Sorey started acting like _that_ , Mikleo didn't know what he'd do. Probably give him the heavenly blessing of a dunk in an ice-cold bath.

But, despite all of that, Pawan himself had given Mikleo a certain piece of knowledge; a precious hope to cling to, no matter how unlikely and uncertain. Being introduced to the idea that a human could become a seraph was…more than Mikleo ever could have hoped for. It was life-changing. He was still quite young when he realized that Sorey was a human; that he was mortal, and Mikleo was not. Ever since, he had spent every moment since trying to write the memory of them into his bones. Someday, he'd wake up, and Sorey would be gone for good, and he'd have to spend ten thousand years or more in a world that never knew him.

He understood why Gramps and the Elysians hadn't told him about this possibility. It wasn't a sure thing, no matter how resonant Sorey was. But…still, would it have killed them to throw him a bone? To save him ten years of tearful nights, ten years of staring into a hopeless future where he'd be only one half of a whole…?

Mikleo stared up at the carvings on the walls of the Shrine of Morgause, not really absorbing any of his study. The party had set up camp here for the night, and he and Sorey had quietly snuck away once everyone was asleep to explore the halls on their own. The architecture was fascinating, and had clearly weathered many years of age – it was a shame that its recent history was marred with such terrible and sorrowful things. But, thanks to Sorey's hard work, those spirits had been laid to rest, and the temple's halls were now peaceful. Peaceful, and quiet – a perfect storm of conditions for one to brood over the curious subject of human mortality.

His reverie was broken by the press of Sorey's chest against his back. He was leaning against him, and very nearly pinning him to the wall with his weight. Mikleo scowled at him over his shoulder.

"Do you _need_ something?"

"Oh, nothing much," Sorey assured him.

His hand stroked down Mikleo's side, growing heavy on the curve of his waist. His fingers slipped between the belts of his corset. Mikleo twitched away, slapping at Sorey's hand out of a long-learned self-preservation instinct. Honestly, to have interrupted his sincere reflection for _this_. And now Sorey had the nerve to be _pouting_ at him about it.

"What? I was just hoping you could help me with reading an inscription over by the gate to the temple's altar," Sorey said, entirely innocently. "It's really… _hard_ to make out."

Mikleo would not be fooled. He knew the look in those green eyes: it was the look of someone who wanted to tickle until he could tickle no more. Mikleo wrapped his arms around his sides protectively, and stood on guard.

"If your eyes are going again, I'll tell everyone we need to stop at the next town to get you fitted for some reading glasses," Mikleo said.

Sorey moved fast – shockingly fast – and pinned Mikleo to the nearest pillar; pressing their bodies flush together. Mikleo barely had the space to gasp more breath into his lungs.

"That is – a gross abuse of your spiritual power," Mikleo wheezed.

"You're not proud of how far I've come with windstepping?" Sorey asked with false surprise. "I thought you would've been impressed enough to want to…congratulate me."

His hands went to Mikleo's waist again, and, before Mikleo could spray water into his face and make his escape back to camp, they smoothed down lower, down to Mikleo's hips, and around to cup his behind.

So maybe Mikleo had misjudged that Look that Sorey had in his eyes. But this was somehow even _more_ frustrating.

"Sorey. We are in a holy shrine," Mikleo scolded.

Sorey grinned, and squeezed with both palms.

"Everyone is sleeping not five rooms away," he tried next.

Sorey shifted to ease his thigh between Mikleo's legs. Mikleo's face burned at how willingly they parted, at how willingly his whole body responded to Sorey. He was so close and warm, and present, right _here_ with him…

"Pawan is probably lurking around somewhere, just waiting to perv on us…" Mikleo stuttered to a stop, the rest of that statement lost to the feeling of Sorey's lips on his jaw, and a sudden, horrible realization. "Oh god, his perviness really _did_ rub off on you, didn't it!?"

"Hmm? Well, I suppose it might have…" Sorey wondered aloud. His hand came up to unfasten the clasps holding Mikleo's jacket shut at the front. "Ever since that trial, I haven't been able to focus on anything but getting you alone. It's like my mind is in a fog…"

His jacket gaped open, exposing enough of his chest to make the blush on his cheeks travel lower, to color the skin there. Mikleo shivered at the cool air on his bare skin, and shivered more at the touch of Sorey's hand; sliding down the middle of his chest, then sliding up and over to squeeze at his pec. The pad of his thumb circled his nipple before he lightly pinched the little rosebud between his fingers. Sorey smiled at him, wide and hungry, and leaned down; as if he wanted to put his mouth there instead of his fingers—

"Just for the record, it's like, super weird that the shrine blessing had that effect? It's not supposed to."

That voice interrupted Sorey's movement, and Mikleo was none too pleased. It had come from the rafters, and – now that they weren't distracted – they could hear the telltale crunching of someone eating popcorn. They looked up, and spotted Pawan spying on them from above. Pawan waved at them, and stuffed another handful of popcorn under his mask; losing a few kernels in the process.

"Don't let me stop you. I just wanted to let you know it's not my fault. Please, continue."

So Pawan was an equal-opportunity creep. What a pleasant revelation. Mikleo yanked his jacket shut, cheeks flaming red. Sorey frowned and crossed his arms, staring up at Pawan with a serious look.

"Pawan. You're an earth seraph, right?"

"Duh. Why else d'ya think I'd be stationed at this shrine?" Pawan replied.

"You know that earth is weak to wind, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Basic knowledge. Why do you—"

All of a sudden, Zaveid descended from the sky, screaming at the top of his lungs. He crashed directly into where Pawan sat on the rafter, grabbing him around the neck with his thighs and sending them both crashing to the ground. Fallen popcorn rained all around them.

"This is MY shtick! Mine! I'M the lovable pervert!" Zaveid shouted into Pawan's face.

"Oh yeah!?" Pawan shouted back. "Well, this shrine ain't big enough for the both of us! Do you know what I'm sayin', chump!?"

"I sure do," Zaveid hissed at him. Their foreheads were pressed directly against each other. It probably hurt, with Pawan's mask in the way. "I challenge you to a foxy boxing duel."

"Not if I challenge you first! I challenge YOU to a foxy boxing duel!"

"I CHALLENGED YOU TO A FOXY BOXING DUEL FIRST."

"I CHALLENGED YOU TO A FOXY BOXING DUEL SECOND."

Zaveid and Pawan started slapping at each other with both hands like prissy schoolgirls, and slowly made their way out of the room to – wherever that match was going to take place. Hopefully far away. Sorey and Mikleo watched them go, with no small bit of relief.

"…you didn't plan that, right?" Mikleo asked, uneasily.

"No," Sorey said with a similarly unsettled tone. "I was just going to call Dezel. He owes me a favor; I spent an afternoon reading him books about dogs from the library and writing letters to authors that he disagreed with on training tips."

"Hmm. So I'm assuming you're not really possessed by some sort of supernatural compulsion towards lewdness, either?"

Sorey grinned sheepishly and scratched at his ear, making his earring flutter and jingle. "No. I just wanted to tease you a little. But…I wouldn't mind picking back up where we left off."

Mikleo wrapped his arms around Sorey's broad, strong shoulders, and brought him back in; as close together as they were before. He felt Sorey's smile against his own lips. He was _here_ , right now, no matter what the future held for them.

"I wouldn't mind that either."

The ground pitched out from under Mikleo, and he found himself being pinned to the pillar; hoisted off the ground, held steady by Sorey's strong arms, and the way his hips pressed against his own. He moaned into Sorey's mouth as their cocks rubbed together; needing more of that friction, needing to feel Sorey's skin on his own, needing Sorey's clothes _off_ and his cock _in_ him, as soon as possible. Mikleo let his head loll back against the pillar as one of Sorey's hands tugged his jacket back open, and slipped inside to grope and squeeze. His face burned at the attention. He bit at his lip to muffle the whimper threatening to tear its way from his lungs.

" _Sorey_. I-I brought my supplies, just…"

His herbs and oils and bases for making gels and potions were safely tucked in the pack he carried with him on these expeditions – he always needed to be prepared with medicine, with Sorey's recklessness to deal with. These supplies also had the handy side feature of being useful for quickies when the mood struck. Sorey purred in approval, and put Mikleo down for just long enough to dig through his bag. Mikleo shimmied his trousers down with shaking hands, but he had barely managed to step out of them before Sorey was all over him again; pushing him back against the pillar, hoisting him back up, and rubbing his wet fingers between his legs, against his perineum – so close and so far away from where Mikleo needed them. Mikleo moaned in frustration, and wrapped his legs tighter around Sorey's waist, pressing his hips down insistently to try and make Sorey get the picture.

"So cute," Sorey groaned, sounding like _he_ was the one dying of frustration here. He let his forehead fall against Mikleo's shoulder, and finally slipped his fingers inside Mikleo properly. "So cute, all the time. You even don't know…"

Sorey's fingers were relentless as they thrusted and twisted inside of him. Mikleo felt his whole body shaking in desire – he was so, so turned on, and needed Sorey so badly it was embarrassing. A delicious spark of pain came from the bite of Sorey's teeth on his neck. Mikleo arched his back into it, chasing that pain, chasing the pressure of his mouth as it marked up the skin revealed by his rumpled jacket.

" _Mikleo_ ," Sorey moaned as if he was about to die. "Can't wait, need you."

He slid his fingers out of Mikleo and fumbled his own trousers open at the front, letting his cock spring free. It was so stiff and red, and leaking precum that smeared against Mikleo's inner thigh as Sorey fumbled himself into place. It looked so painfully hard. Mikleo felt a pleasant twist in his stomach at the idea of helping Sorey get some relief, just as his pulse raced at the idea of getting that cock inside of him. As always, it was at his core to care for Sorey.

This wasn't the first time Sorey had fucked him against a ruin wall, so they already had a system in place to make it work. Mikleo's legs were locked tight around Sorey's waist, and his arms wrapped around Sorey's shoulders and back; relieving some of the burden on Sorey's muscles in keeping him supported, and letting Sorey brace himself on the wall, one hand planted beside Mikleo's head. He couldn't seem to bear to move the other hand from cupping Mikleo's ass.

Sorey's breath panted into his ear, heavy, and he was already moaning like he was about to come any second. Mikleo couldn't really say that he was much better. Sorey's cock felt _so good_ today, and Sorey had pinned him against this wall in just the right position – every thrust seemed to make Mikleo see stars. Sorey gasped aloud, stiffened, and made a few more clumsy, desperate thrusts before Mikleo felt his warmth spread inside of him. Mikleo gave one more full-body shiver, and let himself go along with Sorey.

"So," Mikleo murmured, after they'd caught their breath. "What was that about an inscription earlier?"

Sorey grinned and gave Mikleo a peck on the nose. "I think I figured it out. But I'd love another expert opinion, if you're up to the task."

"As always, Sorey."


End file.
